Mmachi( A NIGERIAN IGBO STORY)
  • Reads 106
  • Votes 10
  • Parts 3
  • Time 6m
  • Reads 106
  • Votes 10
  • Parts 3
  • Time 6m
Ongoing, First published Nov 08, 2020
A wicked King torments another kingdom that had no leader, contrary to the fact that they were content with the three wise elders that guided them. The vicious King had always failed in his attempt to take over the kingdom of Aganga, by an unforeseen power.

 He ignores his failures and strikes once more, but this time a goddess emanates to protect her kingdom. Succeeding to put a stop to his vile acts, the people never appreciated, believed, or prayed to her. She disappears into the unknown until she was appeased.

On her return; out of jealousy, one of the wise elders of Aganga kingdom, had sworn to take her down, even with his last drop of blood. He ventures for the black power to defeat the White goddess.


#Nigerian Igbo story.

#Aganga a fictional kingdom

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This was my first time. I patiently waited for the man Dua Begum told me would be my first to bed with. After starting to bleed two years ago, my stepmother left me at a pleasure house when my father abandoned us. Since then, I've accepted the pleasure house as my new home. He walked in a black Kurta with subtle green eyes and a deep voice. The moment he asked my name and age and then proposed to me for the wedding, I fell in love. There was no denying it. I was just fifteen, and he was nineteen. But, ever since the night of our wedding, he has not come back to take me with him to his home. He left me alone, stranded, burning for him. I did not know who he was. What did he do? All I knew was that he was the soul of my World. My Jaan-e-Jahan. Seven years later, he came back as a storm in my life. As Sultan Rehman Sulaiman. The son of the man who took everything from my family, even before my birth. The reason I ended up in the Pleasure House in the first place. But my love for my husband, the Sultan, is bigger than the mountains, deeper than the oceans, and wider than the skies, even though he is himself a Mountain, impossible to move, an ocean, scaring people to stay away, and a wide sky, impossible to reach. Discipline is everything for him. He is full of love and respect for his family but equally heartless and dangerous toward those who cross him. And, in all of this, I entered his life as a burning flame, a tiny candle's flame, dancing for his attention, crying for his affection, and dying for his love. Until he killed my only loved one. My love died. And, his never bloomed. I was once a bud, unbloomed Rose, who opened my deep red petals for him, and he turned them black, leaving me forgotten inside the dying pages. Was I always forgotten for him? Did he never consider me anything more than a mere responsibility? Will I always be remembered as Bride of Sultan ~ The Forgotten Rose? Mature Content!!! @Copyright 2025